Cruising for a Bruising

For many years, I’ve suggested to my wife that we take a cruise ship vacation. But she has politely said no, claiming it would be too claustrophobic. When I replied that claustrophobia is unlikely, since the typical cruise ship is the size of Litchfield County, but with at least 30 more restaurants, she still said no. Instead of worrying about being claustrophobic, I think she’s really gastrophobic — that is, she’s afraid I will personally set an all-time record for buffet gluttony and be mistaken for a beluga whale with a bad sunburn.

However, a conversation I recently had at a business meeting changed my mind. The guy I spoke with explained that he went on a much-anticipated, week-long Caribbean cruise last year. As he was boarding the festive ship, he happened to glance down and noticed workers somberly unloading caskets from the massive vessel.

 

At first, he was freaked out by the idea that someone had died on the previous voyage of that ship — actually more than one person, since he saw at least three caskets. But then he did a little online research, and learned that all cruise ships have morgues onboard, and it’s not uncommon for passengers to pass away during a trip.

Out of curiosity, I did a little online research, too. There is actually a website called CruiseShipDeaths.com, which chronicles the approximately 200 people who die on cruise ships each year. (I bet Carnival and Disney just LOVE the fact this website exists!)

There are different categories on the website, which include: Murders, Overboards, Suicide, Natural, Accidental, Illness, Port Deaths, Missing, Overdoses, Disasters, Drownings, Fires, and Sinkings.

According to one news story I read, if you hear the announcement “Operation Bright Star” on a cruise ship, a medical emergency is in progress. If you hear “Operation Rising Star,” it means a passenger has died. 

 

An outbreak of illness is classified as “Code Red,” which often requires the passengers to be confined to their rooms. (Ah, there’s the claustrophobia my wife is concerned about.) If someone falls off the ship into the water, you’ll hear a reference to “Mr. Mob” on the PA system, which stands for “man over board.”

Before you think that going on a cruise is as dangerous as walking down the street in Chicago at night, the vast majority of cruise ship deaths are due to natural causes. That makes sense. After all, there are thousands of people on the ship, with a sizable percentage being senior citizens. These folks spend a week eating and drinking to excess, and it’s just a statistical reality that a few of the hearts within the chests of those senior citizens are going to say, “Whoa, that was one cannoli too many,” and then go into cardiac arrest. It’s very sad, but in my view, I’d rather check out while wearing a flowered shirt and holding half a cannoli, than while wearing a parka and holding a snow shovel. Just sayin’.

 

I’m certainly not trying to frighten anyone with this discussion, nor am I trying to discourage anyone from going on a vacation cruise. Most of all, of course, I am trying to make sure I don’t give corporate lawyers at Carnival and Disney a reason to sue me.

So, let me make this clear: yes, about 200 people die annually while on cruise ships. But that’s out of 21 million people who go on vacation cruises every year. Statistically, you are much safer on a cruise ship than, say, commuting to work on I-84. If you choose to go, make sure by the end of your vacation you are not mistaken for a beluga whale with a sunburn. And watch out for Mr. Mob.